Right
by Greenstuff
Summary: He knows what he has to do, but can he do it? SPOILERS 4.08 D/E One-Shot


It's moments like this he wishes the switch really existed; one hundred and sixty years on this earth has blurred the line between his vampire instincts and his human soul so completely that he can't tell where one ends and the other begins. Stefan always seems to know. It's why he's the 'good' brother. The Ripper and the 'real' Stefan are opposites ends of a spectrum, black and white.

Damon has always been grey. Even before he became a vampire, he wasn't good or bad. He's never done anything grand. He tried once, volunteered, got himself a grey and mustard uniform, and marched off with all the other eldest sons in Virginia to fight for the South. He lasted less than a month. War was ugly. It was dirty, cold, lonely, and loud, and Damon hated it. So he'd taken a leave as soon as possible and, once home, back in the beautiful land of endless summer days and Katherine's effervescent charm, never left again. They wiled away an entire summer that way. He, Katharine, and Stefan. She was like a kitten, all sweet softness and unexpected barbs that cut far deeper than should be possible for such an adorable creature. He'd loved her. Or so he'd thought. Now he knew better. Boyish infatuation, stubbornness, and loyalty were not love. Love was selfless. He'd never been selfless with Katharine.

Somewhere along the line he started to believe Stefan and his little blonde walking talking self help guide Lexie when they told him he was incapable of it. It was freeing, deciding to be the bad guy. He'd thrown himself into the role, embraced his vampire side and hedonism. Why not? He was evil.

He brushes a strand of Elena's hair out of her face tenderly. His heart doesn't beat, but if it did he feels like it would have skipped a beat. He once mistook Katharine for Elena. Blinded by his desire he hadn't even questioned it when her lips met his, but now he couldn't imagine how he'd seen Katharine anywhere in Elena. Doppelganger or not, they couldn't be more different.

"Damon?" She whispers, her voice rough.

There are tears in her big brown eyes and Damon feels something like a knife twist in his chest. He knows what he has to do. He isn't sure he has the strength. "Elena, I-"

"Don't." Her hand tightens against his jaw, pulling his lips down to meet hers.

She tastes like blood and last night's champagne. For a moment, just a moment, Damon kisses her back. His lips part hers, and he wraps her in his arms, pulling her so tightly to him the human Elena would have cried out in pain. But she isn't human anymore, and she responds by caressing his tongue with hers.

Abruptly, Damon breaks away. He pushes her harder than he intended and she stumbles several steps back.

Her face is flushed and she is panting. "No." She says, a tear spilling from her eyes. "Please, Damon. Don't do this."

He closes his eyes. If he looks at her, he won't be able to do this. This isn't like the time he had to tell her he loved her and then he could compel her to forget. This would break *her* heart. "I have to." His voice is barely a whisper.

"No." Her hands are on his face and against his will he opens his eyes. "I *love* you, Damon. Being sired to you didn't make me feel this way."

Firmly, but gently, he pulls her hands away. "Elena, I can't be with you."

"No!"

"I need to let you go." He looks down at their hands. Hers are so delicate. But Elena isn't delicate. She's the strongest person he knows. She will get past this. She'll go back to Stefan, and she will forget all about him. That is what the witch said, and that is what he has to believe. "If you love me, you will let me leave. You will forget about me." His eyes meet hers, willing her to believe him as he repeats the words he practiced on Charlotte. "And I'm never going to be happy until you realize that you are never going to have the life that you deserve if I'm in it."

Tears stream down Elena's face, but when Damon releases her hands she doesn't reach for him.

"Goodbye Elena."

Without a backwards glance, he knows if he looks he won't be able to keep walking, Damon walks out of the room, out of the house, out of her life. Forever.

He pulls out his phone and hits speed dial 2. "It's done." He doesn't wait for Stefan to respond. He doesn't want to know what he'll say anyway. All he wants is to put as many miles between himself and Mystic Falls as possible.


End file.
